Memory

The fragrant spring knocks on his door,

When he opens it to a new day, with hope.

The Daisies and Sunflowers sing the morning hymn

While he waits for the girl to wake up from her dream

A place where love once danced to nature’s cacophony

And peace was dappled by a canopy so woody

Maybe, will get back what once was his

And he would thank these mountainous trees

“Why are we here and who are you?”

Breaks him from his trance too good to be true

The woman was up and standing appalled

And he knows his attempt was yet another fall.

“Calm down my love, for you are my life!”

“You lie”, she shouts and picks up a fruit knife.

With a “Trust me my dear” he moves towards the damsel

And in fright and defense she uses the blade

Amidst the raining “Sorry”s and regretful “Oh No”s

The blade clinks when it hits the marble floor.

And a body with a loving heart lies in a crimson pool

Still pleading to the trembling girl to keep her cool.

She goes up to the phone desk just to witness the fact

A framed picture of her marriage shows her with the same man

In tears she shouts “I love you, just stay with me Okay!”

And dials the number that might end up saving her day.

But while the phone rings; memories are washed clean

“How may I help you?” simply makes her think.

There is a man, I know not of, is dead on my floor

She keeps the phone, and with calm demeanor walks out of the door.

-Vaisakhi Mishra

PS - I read a story, quite sometime back and the basic idea of this poem is a direct pick of the story. I would have given it credits but i don't even remember where i read it. So if any of you come across a similar story let me know. The poem is my own though...:)

Picture Courtesy - google.com

The Witness

Cuddling in the early winter chill

They sat there, arm in arm

Chatting away to their heart’s fill;

Stirring love in the breezy calm.

I stare at them for countless hours,

Listening to her whispers shy;

The twinkling eyes of that blushing flower,

Oblivious to my silent cry.

The moon prances in the starry show,

To observe an innocent damsel’s demise

As he pours an exquisite wine, so slow

And quaffs all love, for he is a devil in disguise.

Her demeanor mellow, her heart glowing red,

For love is her elixir and faith her friend.

But little does she know she will soon be dead,

As her ears get no word from my shouts till the end.

She choose a witty devil with the mask

Who seeks not love, but money for pride.

And had I the voice to tell her of his hidden flask,

He would’ve paid and she wouldn’t have died.

Her cold body now sleeps in my frozen lap,

All colours still warm but lifeless in sleep;

I am a witness remember treacherous chap,

With words of your crime in me, reverberating deep.

“He killed her! I know!” I screech and yell.

They don’t know I witnessed this heinous crime.

But what could a dead log possibly tell;

So they leave me like always - a Park bench for all time.

-Vaisakhi Mishra

PS- Image courtesy Google.

REVENGE

Stunned, she watches him leave.
Fire melts her down
As an airy knife
Cuts her heart into two
A half that loves
And a half that hates
She waits for revenge-

In the dark of night
In his fancy abode
She glides like light
With blood shot eyes
Holding her pernicious half-

Playing with the lights
Guiding the windy tides
In a playful star lite night
She plays with his trepidation
Riding, a chandelier-

At the strike of one
She lets out a scream
Collaging the moments
She had spent with him
She loosens the noose of the hang
And his heart is plunged!
She laughs like a vengeful rose.


-VAISAKHI MISHRA


P.S.-this is my 1st dark write ever....just wanted to give this genre a try...plz be frank n lemme know how it is...ur commnts will help me improve....:)